


The Stanley Estate

by PhryneFisherismyRoleModel (mewme)



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:38:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewme/pseuds/PhryneFisherismyRoleModel
Summary: Prudence Stanley is out of the country and has arranged for multiple people to check on her estate.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack Robinson knew Prudence Stanley was out of the country for an extended amount of time and had hesitantly agreed to check on her house periodically (estate, it was more an estate than a home). He knew she had exacted the same promise from Cec and Bert, as well as others, and after having a houseful of “hysterical” women and the death of her son and guests, she needed an empty home and new sights. Prudence has lost some of her staff after Dr Samuels left. Her home needed to be freed of the memories and she needed change. There seemed to be an informal rotation where each checked on the house on a given day. Today was Tuesday and it was Jack’s day.

Jack had only met Arthur a few times and knew how much Prudence loved him. Jack remembered with a smile when Phryne, Prudence’s niece and his partner-in-crime solving, brought Arthur an extra-large gobstopper. She often bought Arthur sweets. Prudence would grumble at the gifts and then smile to herself as she watched how Arthur responded to Phryne. Love ran deep in the Stanley and Fisher households. It was often covered by sarcasm, but both Aunt and Niece were passionate and formidable women.

Jack drove to the front of the Stanley home and parked in front of the massive home. He did not know how many rooms it held, nor how many acres it stretched, but that it held a swimming pool and massive greens, with gardens and lawns to rival any other estate in England, let alone Australia.  


God, he missed her. Phryne, not Prudence, whom he had a scary respect for. He was sure if he had her in an interview room, would be a hard suspect to crack. Phryne was just like her. Intelligent. Stubborn. Independent. Ferocious. Loyal. He did not think Phryne saw just how much like her Aunt she was. Phryne was incandescent. Vivid and frustrating and infuriating and enchanting. He dreamed of her nightly. Of her smile and scent, how she looked in one of her many robes, sleepy and mussed, and how red her lips were. He dreamed of her lips on his and how her hair shone in the sun as she flew away “Come after me, Jack Robinson” she had asked. He hated how he was not able to comply. He was saving up every sick day he could, working extra shifts so he could take the leap and afford a crossing to England. And to her.

Jack sighed as he put his automobile in park in front of the Stanley home. He sat for a moment, rubbing his eyes as he paused to place his hat on his head and open the door. He had promised Prudence he would, again, check on her home and he would do his duty. A promise was a promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack sat quietly in his automobile for a while, fingers tapping on the driver’s side window frame as he pondered the last words Phryne had spoken to him. “Come after me, Jack Robinson”. He believed her. The kiss was not any kiss but one full of things—longing and lust, rawness and intimacy … love? He could not hope for that, not yet. 

She had to know the difficulties he faced with coming after her. He had a job, of course, and could not flit about coming and going as he pleased. He was a police officer, dammit, a Detective Inspector, and had responsibilities. He was responsible for him men, for coaching them in the do's and don’ts of being a responsible police office and he could not take time off to fish or whatever like his constables might do from time to time. 

He dreamed of boarding a ship to take him to England or better yet, hopping in a plane like Phryne had done and flying off into the sunset. For a moment, he pondered how quickly he could learn to fly. He shook it this notion as he considered the cost of fuel and a plane and thought of the comfort a ship could offer. He had time due him, he mused, maybe he would consider looking into the next passage to England and dipping into his meager savings. Not yet. If only she’d telegram and let him know she was safe. She could do at least that. Even Miss Williams—Collins—had not heard from her. Mr. Butler was even unsure of her plans on returning. 

Jack sighed and opened the automobile door, slamming it shut. He walked slowly to the front of the house. “Some house”, he muttered to himself as he took the short steps to the front door. As amazed as he was by Phryne’s house, it was nothing to the impressive (and slightly imposing) structure he was about to enter. He doubted he had been in half the rooms in the house. He reached into his pocket to pull out the key Prudence had given him. It felt heavy with responsibility. This was not the first time he had entered her home since she had been out of the country, but it was the first time things felt off. 

The door was unlocked. He wished he had a weapon. Unlike Phryne, it was not his habit to carry one. He eased the door open and found nothing but silence. He paused in the doorway and listened. Jack heard nothing but the ticking of various clocks on the first floor. He smelled a whiff of French perfume. Phryne, he thought and shook. This house was full of memories. He must have brought his memories of her to life. He thought of Guy Stanley's engagement party and Phryne's Cleopatra costume. He wondered how deep into Antony he would have fallen if Foyle had not appeared. If he had a dime for each thought of regret he had for that night and other nights (or days) with Phryne he could afford a first-class passage to England. 

Shaking off the memories of what might have been, Jack stepped quietly into the foyer and looked around for a weapon. Mr. Butler must have been by recently to clean as there was nothing out of place and the house smelled faintly of flowers. And of her. He reached for a heavy candlestick on the table, setting the candle gently on the table. It was heavy and solid and would hurt. Moving from room to room, he slowly opened the doors and ensured each room, closet, and corner was clear of intruders. 

The smell of French perfume grew stronger the deeper into the house he went. Jack's heart beat faster as closet, dining room, parlor, kitchen, and pantry were cleared. He came to the library and stopped before the door, his hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob.


	3. Chapter 3

The candlestick dropped from Jack’s lifeless fingers. He stared at the figure stretched out on the chaise, hair dark against pale skin. The thud of silver on wood startled the figure awake.

“My aunt will be unhappy with you if she comes back to a marred floor, my dear Jack. We better have Mr. B take a look when he comes to clean next,” Phryne said conversationally as she sat up and stretched. Jack made no sound, no move towards her. “Running late this evening, Jack? Has work held you up or are you beginning to regret your promise to my aunt?” she teased. 

Jack stared at her, his jaw tightening as his fingers flexed into a fist. The initial relief that filled him knowing she was alive, was safe, was home, made way for a sudden anger. Why had she not telephoned? Written? Sent a cable to let him know she was returning? He closed his eyes as her scent enveloped her. 

“Surprised to see me?” she asked at his blank look. His lips tightened into a line as he continued to stare. 

“Surprised?” Jack responded. “Surprised?” He shook his head as he rubbed his face with his hands. He was tired. Angry. Happy. Disappointed. Surprised was the least of what he was feeling. He wondered if there was a way to articulate how he was feeling. He stepped towards her. She in turn stood and waited for him to come to her. She always waited for him to come to her. “How long have you been back?”

“Not long. I telegrammed Mr. B to arrange for a hanger and transportation to Aunt P’s. I wanted to—“ 

“Were you unable to telegram me?”

“I wanted to—“ He interrupted her again.

“Did you even guess how I would feel after weeks of worry, of not knowing if you were safe? Of when you were planning to return?”

“I wanted to surprise you, Jack. Anyway, access to communication was a bit scarce.”

“But you could telegram Mr. Butler and relay some orders? Do you think I would not have done that for you?” He asked. “That I wouldn’t want to watch you return as I had to watched you fly off?”

“But I wanted to—“ 

“Surprise me. I get that.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was filled with all the words he could not express to her. All the fear he felt as he watched her leave, the loneliness, need, lust, love, sadness, surprise, anger he felt. “Consider me surprised.” His voice was bitter.

With that he turned and walked out the door. She was too surprised at his response to immediately chase after him. When she did, she discovered he was gone.


End file.
